


S'my Birthday?

by OverwatchingYouSleep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Kidnapping, M/M, No Lube, Rough Sex, male reader - Freeform, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverwatchingYouSleep/pseuds/OverwatchingYouSleep
Summary: Junkrat's birthday is soon, and Roadhog decides to get him a present.





	S'my Birthday?

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was requested as a gift, so enjoy, whoever this is intended for <3
> 
> you can find more of my work @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com

Mako wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this. Junkrat was his boss, he was under no obligation to do anything nice for him. Much less something as arduous as trying to find someone _cute_ in the outback wasteland.

But (as if the old traditions even mattered nowadays) it was Jamison’s birthday. That had to be good for at least something. He was turning 25—it would have been a big one if he had been lucky enough to grow up anywhere else. Roadhog could suck it up long enough to get him a present.

He just wish he had decided on something easier. The further out you got from the core, the less radiated freakshows you were likely to find. He was skirting the edge of the continent now, out under the guise of a heist to find someone who wouldn’t bite his friend’s fingers off 5 seconds in. So much easier said than done.

But if anyone knew how to get something done, it was Roadhog.

When he first saw you, it was like a hallucination. No obscure growths on the back of your neck, or oozing, unidentifiable fluid from beneath your fingernails. Just a regular, healthy person, taking care of your little house on the shore. It was a quaint little place, almost a nice cottage if not for the fence, a huge barbed eyesore no doubt intended to keep the radiated monsters like him out.

And you, you didn't even notice him in the distance, watching you as you went along your daily routine. Mowing your grass, cleaning your windows, doing regular chores as though you lived in one of the first-world countries and not this shithole. There had to be something more to you than meets the eye if you were really able to make it out here on your own like this. Especially with just a barbed-wire fence for protection.

He corrected himself. The fuse box on the back of your house had a barely-visible wire leading up to the spokes in the fence, and suddenly he understood why your survivability was what it was. Innocent as your home looked, you knew how to defend against predators and people alike in the outback. If you weren't such a rare commodity--and exactly what Roadhog was looking for--he would have left you to it. But unfortunately, you were both of those things.

He waited until that night, long after you'd retired from the yard work at sundown and all the lights in your home had turned off. He hadn't seen anyone else in the windows, so he figured it was safe to assume you lived alone. He had spent all day fashioning his signature mod for his gun out of the junk he had stored in his chopper, putting together a suitable pile of shrapnel ammo and finding the best point of attack.

He found a suture in the fence, just feet away from the front door, and let his automatic gun rip, tearing through the stringy steel like paper. The metal junk sent sparks flying as it tore through the electrified fence, but all a fair distance away from Roadhog. Soon enough, the zaps of energy stopped flying, and what was left of the weak metal was torn apart and useless. He still used caution as he stepped through, but once past that defense, he didn't hesitate to kick in the front door and barge into the place.

Like the outside, the house wasn't anything special. Just horribly out-of-place here in the middle of the outback. Everything opposite of the endless dirt and starved land, this was proper and pristine, so unlike what he was accustomed to here. He was certain that the scavengers were going to have a field day picking through here after he snatched the owner.

The bedroom was labeled as such with a sign on the door, even going so far as to tell him your name. Even easier than he thought, though whatever relief that brought him was washed away when the open door revealed a gun pointed directly at his head.

"Get out of my house," you managed, your voice level even though your finger was shaking on the trigger. You obviously weren't used to having to resort to violence to fend off attackers. That fence was a pretty good line of defense.

Just not one that could stop Roadhog.

He had expected this opposition too; stealth was not in his cards, and if his carnage outside hadn’t woken you up, his entrance certainly would have. The gun was puny, weak in the outland’s standards, and he felt no fear in taking a menacing step forward.

"You're coming with me," Roadhog informed you, allowing you the option to come along quietly. He didn't want to bring you back to Junkrat broken in any way, not after putting so much trouble into find you. He hoped you'd just have the common sense to obey the 7"3 man standing in your doorway and come quietly.

You squeezed the trigger, the bullet tearing through the leather and striking the metal underplate of his mask. It clanged to the floor, crunched and useless, and Roadhog lifted his shoulders in a heavy sigh. Of course, you wouldn't. He hated jobs that involved some sense of mercy or finesse. He brandished his hook, letting you see its sharp point.

"Hold still."

\--

It hadn't been much of a fight. He'd knocked you out in seconds flat, not even allowing you a final glance at the home you'd taken years to build before dragging you back into the heart of the outback. After 2 days, you wound up in a derelict shithole named Junkertown. He hadn't allowed you much freedom, tying you into the sidecar of his chopper to prevent your escape. Even from there, you'd seen him get into numerous bloody conflicts with the locals over you in the short trek from the town gates to his home.

Once he parked, he didn't untie you like you hoped. He merely lifted your body, rope and all, out of the chopper and carried you in through the front door. He dropped you face-down on a ratty couch that was much more comfortable than its ruined appearance suggested and you tried not to think too hard about the smell of blood that reeked from the cushions.

"C'mere!" he bellowed through the house. It was the first word he'd said since he’d taken you, striking another surge of fear down your spine. You heard clattering on the far other side of the house, and your sinking heart dropped even lower.

"Coming, I'm coming," a high-pitched voice squeaked in response. Your breath stalled in your throat. You turned your head as far as it could go, just in time to see the house’s other resident step through the door.

“What’s this now?” he asked, sounding like he had something between his teeth.

Rather than respond, Roadhog simply snorted and gestured towards you with a single hand. You squirmed in your bonds on the couch, trying to make out as much as you could about the other man from what you could see. From here, the only thing you could make out was his torso, how unhealthily skinny he was, an incredible contrast to his friend.

“Yah, I see him. What about him?” He sounded annoyed, like you were a waste of his time. You didn’t want to know what two men like this would do with someone they considered a waste of time. Roadhog snorted again, this one sounding a bit more angry.

“A gift,” he explained, and you felt his giant, heavy hand wrap around your shin, pulling your leg out for his friend to look over. “For your birthday.”

“S’my birthday?” the second one asked, and he knelt to look at you. This allowed you to see his face too, his unnaturally-glowing eyes and sharp canines, wild tufts of hair and Christ, was that a firework he was holding between his teeth?

“Two days ago.” Roadhog grunted, and he was most certainly annoyed now. He turned on his heel and stormed off, back into some unseen corner of the house. “You’re welcome, Junkrat.” The skinny one took the firework out of his mouth and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Thanks mate,” he called back, much clearer. It sounded genuine but unenthusiastic, like he didn’t want to be interrupted for this present. Well, he apparently didn’t even know it was his birthday. His eyes focused on you, trying to get a good look at your face. “And hello to you.”

“Hi,” you responded, meek and confused. He grabbed you and turned you over with one arm, getting a good luck over your body. His eyes sparkled with approval, even though the boredom was still prominent on his face.

“He really went all out with you, huh? Big lug.” With a small grunt, he knelt down and scooped you over his shoulders, taking you in a fireman’s carry through a small maze of hallways that didn’t seem to follow the traditional structure of a house in any way.

“Got a knife?” he yelled into the open room to his left. He lifted one hand off you to catch what was thrown to him, and he dropped you in front of him on your feet. You stumbled, disoriented, and he grabbed your arm and sliced through your wrist binds. “Wrapped up and everything.”

When the ankle restraints were cut, you tried to duck around him and run. You didn’t even get past his side before he scooped you up and threw open the door right across the hall. You were tossed in like nothing, stumbling back on your feet until your knees hit a decrepit bed, falling back onto it.

“He’s a feisty one!” he called out to his friend, laughing at whatever the distant response was, but saying nothing more to it. The door was closed, and he turned on his peg leg to face you, a mix of emotions that you couldn't begin to piece together plastered all over his face.

"So," he started. Without further warning, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband his pants and dropped them, his massive cock springing forth in immodest arousal. He paused for a second, allowed you to take this in with a wide mouth, and then expectantly gestured with his hands. "You?"

"Me?" You pointed to yourself, down at the ratty nightclothes you had been stuck in since you'd been taken. He nodded, looking at you like you were an idiot. He had to be out of his mind. You looked at his cock, uncircumcised, hanging between his legs like all the meat on his bones went towards it. You couldn't stomach the thought of it. You took the bottom of your undershirt between your fingers, pulling lightly on the fabric, but you didn't disrobe. "This isn't legal, you know."

"Not what now?" Junkrat questioned, squinting at you through one eye. You couldn't tell if it was rhetorical or not. You swallowed the mucus in your throat and pulled yourself to your knees on the bed.

"I want to go home," you explained. Maybe you'd have more of a chance of escape with Junkrat; he didn't seem to want you as much as his partner anticipated.  Who knew, maybe he could be persuaded otherwise? You dared to chance it. "You need to let me go."

For a moment, he seemed to actually think over your words. Enough to let a glimmer of hope flicker in your chest at the sight of his consideration. Then, a smile broke out over his face.

"No." A laugh ripped out of his lungs, manic and wild, causing your heart to sink even further into your chest. You fell back to sit on the bed, watching him laugh of your stupid attempt at bargaining before he sobered up and began to reach for you.  You flinched away, and his expression soured. He reached again, and you pushed his hand away.

"Is it gonna be like that, then?" he asked, sounding aggravated. You didn't know how to respond.  In one step he was in front of the bed, in front of you, his hands grabbing your shirt and ripping it in two. The muscles on his lanky form did nothing to note the incredible strength he possessed. "You're my present, ain't that right?" 

"He kidnapped me!" you shouted, trying to ignore his metal digits digging into your side, his thumb brushing roughly over your nipple.

"Oh my god," he groaned, like he was embarrassed by you. His flesh hand pushed down your shoulder, pinning you to the bed and leaving you wide and vulnerable for his metal hand to rip your pants down your legs. Your cock was soft, barely visible against the cloth of your boxer shorts, and he seemed to sneer at the sight of it. "You ain't packing much, are you?"

"Go to hell!" Down to your last resort, you fought back with all the strength you could muster, kicking legs and harsh punches to his chest and neck. You hadn't had to fight in so long, especially not stripped to your boxers. Junkrat didn't have the patience for any of it. He landed one hard hit on the side of your head with his metal hand, his palm striking your temple, and it was more than enough to disorient you. You clung to the sides of your head, trying to will the ringing away, while Junkrat finished wrestling your pants and underwear off.

"There we go." His voice was distant, but closing in. You opened your eyes, and most of the spinning and stars had disappeared, leaving only the distant vanity in your sight. It was obviously scavenged from someplace much fancier, each draw brimming with explosives and contraband. In the mirror above, you saw your reflection, days worth of grime and filth on your face, and the overwhelming giant behind you aligning his cock to your hole.

"Stop," you slurred. Being isolated out in the wasteland, you haven't had any sexual encounters as of late. Him trying to take you without preparing you wouldn't end well. At all. He barely grunted in response, reaching to wrap his fingers in your hair and pull. The strain was almost too much, distracting you from the incessant probing at your hole.

"Why should I stop?" he asked you, rocking his hips back and forth. Not really penetrating, but teasing it. Warning your body of how he was about to ravage it. You tried to pull your body away, and he pulled your hair even harder, then slammed your still-dizzy head back down into the bed. "Quit squirreling around!"

He wrapped his hand around your cock and stroked you, trying to get you aroused, but the metal of his hand only served to chafe your shaft in an unpleasant way. You grunted, and he stopped, only to go back to prodding your backdoor. He let go of your hair to grab both of your ass cheeks, using his thumbs to spread your tight hole before pushing forward.

The first sensation of being breached was painful. You jerked up and screamed, fingers and toes curling, your body trying to reject the foreign penetration. He brought you back down by his grip on your bottom, forcing another inch into you, then another, ripping a new, more animalistic scream from you each time. After 5 thrusts, your voice gave out, only able to give a weak cry as he pushed forward, until he bottomed out in your ass.

"There we go," he said, finally looking like he was actually enjoying himself. He looked down at you, the tears brimming at your eyes and falling onto the stained sheets. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that hard."

"Fuck off," you whispered, unable to raise your voice any higher. He moved his flesh hand from your hip to your hair, pulling your head up. You wheezed in pain, and he leaned over you to get his lips as close to your ear as possible.

"What was that?" he asked, and his hips snapped back and forth once. You whimpered into your teeth, clenching your eyes shut and keeping your mouth shut. Another second passed, and he thrust hard enough for the smack of flesh to reach your ears. "What was that, slut?"

“I said fuck off.” He scoffed and turned you all the way on your side, legs pressed together and your ass pushed out and presented for him. The position made it easier for him to muffle your stupid protests in his mattress.

"Such a goddamn difficult present," he muttered, moving away from your ear and letting you go to fall on the bed. He finally started on a regular pace with his thrusts, pushing himself in and out of you slowly, but it didn't hurt any less. You squeezed more tears out of your eyes, trying to hide your pitifully stiffening cock between your legs. Junkrat's hands both dug into your left hip, holding your lower half in place so he could increase the force of his thrusts. The entire bed shook from his force.

"See? Not complaining now, are ya?" he asked, not at all out of breath from the exertion. In truth, your throat hurt too badly to cry out anymore. There would be no forcing anything out of your broken vocal cords. He was satisfied with your silence as an answer and bottomed out deep of inside of you. Savoring the way your body curled at the deep intrusion. "Didn't think so."

He preferred to move fast and erratic, his brutal thrusts smashing the headboard of the already-busted bed against the wall. He no longer fucked you deep, sometimes even pulling all the way out of you and back in, just to get any little reaction he could out of you. He slowed when his orgasm came close, punctuated by his complete, burrowing thrusts and breathless grunts.

"Gonna cum. Fuck. Gonna cum gonna cum gonna fucking--" his teeth slapped together and he hunched over, slapping his hips into yours one final time and unleashing his load deep inside of your ass. "--cum!"

Your neglected cock twitched a bit hopefully at the sensation of being filled, but no relief was coming. Your body was exhausted, your pain was bad enough without your headache and how unbelievably disgusted you felt with yourself. Junkrat remained perfectly still, only his hands shaking as he finished filling you up, sliding out of you as slowly as he first pushed in.

“Not bad, for a bitch of a present.” With that, he popped out, stepping away from you with playful smack to your thigh. The sudden emptiness made you shudder, turning onto your back to alleviate your distorted sense of equilibrium, At the sight of your perked cock, Junkrat raised a brow. “Looks like you had fun.”  
  
You didn’t respond, but you did put one hand over your length, hiding your nethers from his view. His responding laugh was short, likely from his light exertion, but no less amused.

“Oh, that’s real cute, mate,” he told you, patting your thigh in affection before turning and opening the door, still fully in the buff. “Stay there, I’ll get you something to help with that.” He disappeared from the doorway, leaving you alone in the room. You stared after him for a moment, a conflicted stew of emotions putting pressure on your sinuses. You rolled your eyes back and let your head hit the mattress.

Whatever he had in mind, you were passed out cold by the time he brought it back.


End file.
